


Type Writes: Short Fics

by 0neType



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Multi, Tagged by chapter, additional tags inside
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-08
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-09-14 11:11:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 16
Words: 9,581
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16911801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/0neType/pseuds/0neType
Summary: A collection of drabbles, flash fics, etc. about numerous different pairings and settings that don't fit into any larger series I have ongoing.Warnings and prompts (if applicable) are at the start of each chapter.





	1. Intro

Backing up all my unpublished Tumblr content.

Please bear with me as I set this up. :3


	2. CherryBerry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ANONYMOUS SAID:  
> For the prompt thing: Uf Sans US Sans, theme: cooking.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Cherryberry  
> Words: ~370

“Oh! Are these for me?” Blue looked up at him, eyes as wide and expressive as always.

Sans shifted nervously on his feet as Blue inspected the tacos he’d prepared. He’d gone all out with them—made everything from scratch to make sure it was just perfect. It was their very first anniversary after all, and he wanted to show Blue just how much he appreciated everything he’d done for him. What better way to do that than by making his favourite meal?

“Uhh, yeah.” Sans rubbed awkwardly at the back of his skull, embarrassment threatening to make a blush rise to his face. “I know how much you like them so…”

Blue gave him that look of his, all soft and endearing, and Sans had to look away before he got too flustered. “Thank you, Red! I’m sure they’re great!”

He picked one up and took a bite. He chewed thoughtfully for a moment, face scrunching up in interesting ways. He hummed to himself but didn’t comment on the taste. Sans felt like his soul was going to explode from the anticipation.

“Well?” He prompted.

“It’s… good,” Blue said simply, putting the taco down.

“Just ’good’? Fuck…” Sans groaned, collapsing back into the chair the the dining table, “I fucked up didn’t I?” 

“No, no, no!” Blue reassured, immediately enveloping him in a hug, “I’m sure it’s delicious! I just… don’t really have anything to compare the taste to!”

Sans was reassured up until Blue’s words truly caught up to him.

“… what the fuck is that supposed to mean?” He blinked up at his boyfriend. “You eat tacos all the damn time.”

Blue laughed, eyelights twinkling in surprise, “What?! No I don’t, silly! I’ve  _never_ eaten a taco before!”

“You… you make them all the time though?? Why would you  _make_ them if you don’t actually  _eat_ them?!”

Blue gave him a wide, beaming smile coupled with a soft kiss to the top of his skull. “Because other people  **love** them, of course!”

Sans stared at Blue.

He sighed.

Of course. Why had he ever suspected any different?

He smiled wryly, pressing his mouth to Blue’s. “Let’s just eat.”

Blue laughed against his teeth and nodded.


	3. HoneyMustard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> GODOFLAUNDRYBASKETS SAID:  
> I'm not turning down a chance to throw you a prompt. What about - HoneyMustard w/ the prompt "I thought you already left"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: HoneyMustard  
> Words: ~430

It’s well past noon when Papyrus wakes up.

The only reason he even knows as much is because he can hear the music coming up from downstairs, his brother inevitably watching NTT’s daily track listing. Even as he slowly gains consciousness though, he doesn’t make a move to get up. He’s still too comfortable lying where he is, thinking happily on the events of the previous night.

Red stayed the entire day in their ‘verse yesterday, just hanging out, not a care in the world. He hadn’t even come for anything in specific, just said he felt like hanging out with them while sporting a deep flush and embarrassed frown on his face. Just the thought of it makes him smile.

As least up till he remembers.

Red hadn’t been able to stay the night.

Papyrus had asked him to but he’d slowly turned him down, explaining guiltily that it wasn’t that he didn’t  _want_ tom but more so that he hadn’t actually let his brother know he’d be coming here at all. Papyrus had been disappointed but he’d understood. Red’s brother was notoriously overprotective—there was no telling how he’d react to his brother being gone this long without any warning. 

In the end, he remembers managing to convince Red to stay curled up in bed with him a little longer before leaving but he hadn’t truly been able to enjoy it knowing that the small, angry skeleton would be leaving soon after.

He sighs, despondent at the thought of having to wait another week before Red comes back again, and turns over on his mattress—

—only to press up against someone next to him.

A pair of glowing red eyes glare blearily up in his direction before the figure in his bed readjusts and snuggles more firmly into him.

Papyrus stares at Red, soul warming at the sight of him.

His voice comes hushed. “I thought you already left.”

Red makes a muffled sound from where he’s pressed up against Papyrus’s side, throwing his arms around his waist as he does so and squeezing tightly.

Papyrus chuckles, “What was that?”

“I said,” he grumbles, as he lifts his head slightly, “It’s not  _my_ fault you’re so fucking comfortable to sleep against.”

“So then it’s my fault?”

Red settles back against him. “It’s  _always_ your fault.”

“Your brother’s gonna be pissed.”

“Good thing I’m blaming you for this then.”

Papyrus laughs and wraps his arms around Red, pulls him closer. “You’re a prick, you know that?”

There’s mumbled confirmation from Red followed by the slightest tightening of his grip in Papyrus’s shirt.

Papyrus smiles.


	4. Fellcest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ERIAPRIL SAID:  
> Ooh! Ooh! 1-sinpai! What about a cute fellcest where uf!pap is somehow trying to be sweet to uf!sans which kinda freaked the smol skelly up?! :D

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Fellcest  
> Words: ~780 (these keep getting longer someone help me)

Papyrus is acting weird.

He’s been following Sans around all day, uncharacteristically quiet and unobtrusive. The phrase ‘like a puppy’ comes to mind before Sans immediately has to shut the thought down because,  _what the fuck??_  This is Papyrus; fuck, more to the point, this is the  _ **Boss**_. The only time Boss and puppies should be in the same sentences is when…

Well…

In grudging respect to certain married members of the Snowdin Guard, Sans shuts that thought down as well.

But.

It doesn’t change the fact that his brother has a rare day off and, instead of spending his free time doing  _literally anything else_ , he’s been tailing Sans around all day. Even now, as Sans kicks off his shoes and throws himself into their lumpy, old couch with a sigh, Papyrus follows. It’s disconcerting.

Absolutely weird as fuck, if he’s being completely honest.

He ignores it when his brother shifts closer to him on the couch, choosing instead to pick up the remote and put on some mindless TV. It’s one of those weeks where MTT has the underground’s main media production company held hostage and is therefore broadcasting on all channels on threat of murder. It would be fine since a little blood and gore have never been enough to turn Sans off from good television if not for the fact that MTT  _isn’t_ good television in even the slightest.

Nevertheless, he sighs and settles in against the cushions to watch some gameshow the four-armed star is hosting where the contests must get the answer right or face being dismembered.

Boring and played-out as always.

It’s as the short-eared rabbit contestant is screaming through his arm being sawed off that Sans feels something brush his side.

He looks up in time to see his brother shift close enough to put an arm around him and tuck him into his side.

“Uhh…” He starts but his words die at his teeth at the expression on Papyrus’s face because it’s…

It’s  _soft_.

His soul goes cold as the pieces of the puzzle all come together. Sans feels a sweat break out instantly over him. He jumps up, shaking his brother’s hold off.

Papyrus looks alarmed. “Sans, what—”

“What’s going on?!” Sans yells, panicked, “Did something happen? Are you sick?!!”

And his soul is pounding a mile a minute because… because if his brother is going out of his way to be  _nice_ and to openly show  _affection_ then it can only be for one reason.

“Are you… hurt?” He can feel the sting of tears bite at his sockets even as he speaks, voice starting to tremble. “Fuck, Pap. W-what happened?”

Papyrus stares at him quietly for a moment before sighing heavily. He gets up off the couch and walks up to Sans, quickly enveloping him into a hug. The shock of contact makes the tears spill over and Sans grips onto his brother tightly, afraid of what’s to come.

“B-boss… boss, what…?” He can’t manage to say any more, voice breaking into an awful croak.

“I’m not dying, Sans,” His brother says and Sans can practically hear the eyeroll in his words.

It seems to good to be true.

He presses his face harder against his brother’s chest, wanting more than anything to believe that he’s telling the truth but… 

“Then why…?”

Papyrus sighs again, rubbing comfortingly at his back. “I must confess that I… did not anticipate such a reaction from you.”

Sans doesn’t answer, simply holds Papyrus tighter for fear of losing him if he lets go.

“I just wanted to spend time with you,” His brother says, gentle and slow. Sans feels his soul pulse brightly at the words. “Is that really so hard to believe?”

“A little…” As the situation calms he starts to feel embarrassed with himself for overreacting the way he had.

“Then clearly I need to do this more often,” Papyrus mumbles.

Sans looks up at his brother, curious.

Papyrus blushes bright when their eyes meet. He looks off to the side as he speaks. “O-only to get you used to it!! Because, honestly! You acting like this is ridiculous!”

Sans manages a genuine grin, light and teasing. “Is it though?”

“Of course!!! … as if you don’t already know that I love you.” His brother scoffs but the way he keeps Sans close to him falls perfectly inline with his sentiment.

Feeling much lighter now that he knows the source of his brother’s behaviour, Sans lets himself be led back to the couch. There, they settle in against each other, curling up to watch bad TV. It doesn’t take long before the drone of senseless violence lulls his brother to sleep.

Sans brushes a kiss to Papyrus’s cheek. “You too, Boss.”


	5. Alphyrus (Papyrus/Alphys)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: UT!Papyrus/UT!Alphys  
> Words: ~540 (after discounting the usernames hahaha)

**— CoolSkeleton95 has signed on —**

**ALPHYS** : oh!!!!  
 **ALPHYS** : hi papyrus! you’re on pretty late today aren’t you? :O!!

**CoolSkeleton95** : HELLO ALPHYS  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : YES  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : IT IS QUITE LATE ISN’T IT?

**ALPHYS** : aren’t you usually ‘napping’ right about now? lol

**CoolSkeleton95** : I COULDN’T SLEEP  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : TO BE PERFECTLY HONEST

**ALPHYS** : oh…  
 **ALPHYS** : insomnia again?

**CoolSkeleton95** : I’M AFRAID SO…

**ALPHYS** : :(  
 **ALPHYS** : do you wanna talk about it?  
 **ALPHYS** : i…  
 **ALPHYS** : i know i’m not the best person for offering comfort but

**CoolSkeleton95** : YES THAT WOULD BE NICE ACTUALLY  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : I ALWAYS FEEL MUCH BETTER AFTER TALKING TO YOU

**ALPHYS** : at least i could TRY to help out you know?  
 **ALPHYS** : OH  
 **ALPHYS** : well  
 **ALPHYS** : i’m glad (/////V/////)  
 **ALPHYS** : so what’s up?  
  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : WELL…  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : IT’S LIKE I’VE SAID BEFORE  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : I FEEL LIKE I THINK TOO MUCH  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : THERE ARE JUST  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : SO MANY THOUGHTS IN MY HEAD.  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : I CAN’T SLEEP WHEN I’M TOO BUSY WORKING THEM ALL OUT  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : AND TONIGHT…

**ALPHYS** : ???  
 **ALPHYS** : tonight…?

**CoolSkeleton95** : ALPHYS  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : AM I ANNOYING?

**ALPHYS** : what!!!!!!!!!!!  
 **ALPHYS** : who told you THAT?! lmao

**CoolSkeleton95** : NO ONE I JUST

**ALPHYS** : because trust me papyrus  
 **ALPHYS** : i know annoying very personally (hahaaaaaa)

**CoolSkeleton95** : SOMETIMES FEEL THAT WAY YOU KNOW?

**ALPHYS** : and you’re like  
 **ALPHYS** : the farthest thing from it <3333333  
 **ALPHYS** : :((((( why do you feel that way papyrus?  
 **ALPHYS** : you’re like  
 **ALPHYS** : the sweetest, coolest, dude i know  
  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : YOU SAY THAT BECAUSE YOU’RE A GOOD PERSON  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : AND YOU DON’T WANT ME TO FEEL BADLY  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : WHICH I AM VERY THANKFUL FOR BUT

**ALPHYS** : lol  
 **ALPHYS** : i’m not uh  
 **ALPHYS** : i’m not a good person papyrus……………………

**CoolSkeleton95** : I DON’T THINK OTHERS FEEL THE SAME WAY  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : JUST LIKE RIGHT NOW  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : I’M BOTHERING YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : BECAUSE I NEED CONSTANT REASSURANCE OVER SOMETHING THAT I SHOULD BE ABLE TO FIGURE OUT ON MY OWN  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : HOW IS THAT NOT ANNOYING?? OBJECTIVELY SPEAKING I MEAN

**ALPHYS** : well i mean

**CoolSkeleton95** : YOU *ARE* A GOOD PERSON ALPHYS  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : I DON’T KNOW WHY YOU’D EVER THINK OTHERWISE

**ALPHYS** : we’re friends so that kind of stuff doesn’t matter to me  
 **ALPHYS** : and it’s not like chatting with a cute dude in the middle of the night is a bad way to spend my time lmfao  
 **ALPHYS** : LOOOOOLLLLLLL papyrus trust me i’m REALLY not  
 **ALPHYS** : there’s a lot of stuff i have to answer for  
 **ALPHYS** : i’m just too much of a coward to face it head on………

**CoolSkeleton95** : WHATEVER THOSE THINGS ARE, I STILL BELIEVE YOU’RE A GOOD PERSON DESPITE IT ALL.  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : YOU WANT TO CHANGE AND BE BETTER AND THAT’S ALWAYS THE MOST IMPORTANT THING, I THINK. JUST BECAUSE IT TAKES YOU A LITTLE TIME TO COME TO TERMS WITH IT DOESN’T DEVALUE THE FACT THAT YOU REGRET YOUR ACTIONS AND WANT TO MAKE AMENDS.  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : I BELIEVE IN YOU ALPHYS AND  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : … WAIT

**ALPHYS** : oh wow  
 **ALPHYS** : oh GOSH papyrus that’s……… >////<

**CoolSkeleton95** : DID YOU JUST 

**ALPHYS** : man i don’t even know what to say  
 **ALPHYS** : i think i really needed to hear that… thank you……… <33333333 

**CoolSkeleton95** : CALL ME CUTE?

**ALPHYS** : and for the record, you’re really, really NOT annoying papyrus. it’s okay to need validation from time to time, and i don’t mind at all if you come to me for it. i’m here for you <3  
 **ALPHYS** : uh

**CoolSkeleton95** : ???

**ALPHYS** : ……/////////////////////

**CoolSkeleton95** : ALPHYS…?

**ALPHYS** : ………………………………  
 **ALPHYS** : ……………………………………………  
 **ALPHYS** : ………………… fuck

**— ALPHYS has signed out —**

**CoolSkeleton95** : OH…  
 **CoolSkeleton95** : HMM


	6. KetchupBerry (UT!Sans/US!Sans)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ANONYMOUS SAID:  
> Blue/Classic Sans; Dom blue, playful. (Optional: control, guidance, fluff) [Guess I went with anon mode after all. Good luck with these!!! Just go have some fun!]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: KetchupBerry (UT!Sans/US!Sans)  
> Words: ~440
> 
>  **Content Warnings** : vaguely nsfw, bondage, sensitive bones

Sans didn’t know how he ended up in these situations.

One second he was talking to Blue about the finer details of his battle body and the next, said outfit was being stripped down to the black under-body and Sans was restrained by the scarf his alternate always wore.

“Looks like I was right!” Blue smiled at him as he pushed him onto his back and straddled his lap. “My scarf looks really good on you.”

“I, uhh… I don’t think this is how scarves are meant to be worn,” Sans said a little wryly, tugging at where he’d been tied to the headboard by the azure fabric.

Blue ran an uncovered hand down the side of his face and leaned forward, grinning down at him with half-lidded sockets. “Where’s your creativity? Don’t tell me  _that_ got swapped around too?”

“Dunno.” Sans tried to converse normally but, although Blue was listening, he was also slowly moving his bare hands underneath the waistband of Sans’ shorts and that was making it a little hard to focus on his words. “Never really pegged me  _or_ Paps as the creative types, you know? We’re more the ‘stick to what you’re good at’ sorts of guys.”

Blue laughed lightly, a teasing lilt to his tone, “Maybe you just haven’t tried to branch out enough?”

Sans sucked in a breath as his hand ghosted over a sensitive area along his pelvis. “M-maybe.”

His energetic counterpart continued on, making no mention of the way Sans was starting to shake and stutter. Blue pressed a firm rub in against Sans’ pubis and he bit back a groan. He felt the rise of a dark flush glow over his face, breath going short and ragged. Again, Blue did nothing to call out his reactions, save for perhaps pressing more firmly in the areas that made Sans shiver.

It was as Sans was starting to sweat, getting truly worked up, that Blue finally sat back to get a good look at him. Sans almost whined as he pulled away, only just managing to hold back out of some sense of pride. It didn’t help much for the state he was in though, and he wriggled desperately against the sheets as he sought out more friction.

“Hmm, not bad.” Blue smiled, tapping a phalange at his teeth. “It’s decided then!”

With that, his alternate fell back against him, this time with the press of a wet kiss and a chortle as Sans moaned into it.

“You don’t have to worry about getting creative,” Blue assured as he licked his way up Sans’ vertebrae, purr evident in his every word, “Just leave that to me.”


	7. Fellcest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ANONYMOUS SAID:  
> honeymustard or fellcest with a little sans? (im sorry you gave me an idea with that picture)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Fellcest (based on [this](http://0netype.tumblr.com/post/150605996387/tiny-ufsnases-%E0%B9%91))  
> Words: ~1120 (dear lord this seriously got away from me hahahaaaa a a)
> 
>  **Content Warnings** : minor jealousy

He was upset.

He didn’t  _want_  to be—tried  _desperately_  to be nonchalant about it—but, god damn it all, he was fucking  _upset_. He was tense and irate and jittery and just… feeling all around  _awful_. And, as per usual, it was all because of his idiot brother.

The Sanses had been messing around with ridiculous, science-y bullshit all day—which,  _fine_ , he understood that his brother had an interest in that sort of thing and that he hardly ever got a change to engage in it back in their universe  _but_. Was it really necessary to be so  _loud_  about it? Like he was playing up how much fun he was having without him?

And it wasn’t like that Blueberry version of Sans even had much background in science in the first place so Papyrus didn’t know why his brother and the other Sans insisted on including him in their activities. If they were just going to be inviting  _any_  old monster into their exclusive fucking group,  _regardless_  of their knowledge on the subject, he didn’t see why it couldn’t have been  _him_  instead.

But.  _Whatever_.

That was besides the point.

The point  _was_ , that their dumb fucking experiments had left all three of them shrunken down to a size that could easily be crushed in the palm of his hand.

Papyrus had been horrified.

Worst of all, he’d been the only one to feel that way.

The Sanses had been  _laughing_  when they’d come into the room where the Papyruses were watching TV. Blueberry’s brother was the first to see them and had immediately followed with bursting laughter of his own. The remaining Papyrus had gone for concern at first but, after being reassured by his Sans that it was temporary and wouldn’t last for more than a day, had only lightly scolded him before affectionately cooing over how ‘cute’ his brother looked all tiny like that.

Disgusting behaviour.

 _Honestly_.

After that, it had turned into an absurd circus of events, as awful as they were dangerous. His counterparts had started carrying the tiny versions of their brothers all over the place, letting them climb up and sit on their shoulders, run around and slide down their arms, fucking  _tossing_  them back and forth. Papyrus could practically feel his soul crawling up his throat when the lazy, weedbag version of him had dangled Sans upside down, chuckling to himself. Not that it had mattered to  _Sans_  though. He’d just laughed along, like he was genuinely  _enjoying_  having the limits his weak fucking body could take tested in such an alarming manner.

And then, after that— _after all that_ —when Papyrus had snatched his brother back from the other Papyrus’s grip, Sans had the nerve to say, to  _stutter_ , ‘don’t drop me.’

_What._

**_WHAT?!_ **

So Sans could fucking trust  _those_  two clowns but he couldn’t trust his  _own_  bone and dust?! After the reckless antics of the other two Papyruses, his brother was worried that  ** _he_**  would drop him??! Like Papyrus was  _that_  heavy-handed? Like he didn’t  _meticulously_ make sure day-to-fucking- _day_  that nothing he did would  _ever_  harm Sans?

Yeah.

He was  _really_  fucking upset about that.

“ _Fuck you._ ” Papyrus hissed at his brother even as Sans wrapped his stubby arms tighter around his thumb in an attempt to steady himself.

“Kinda hard when I’m like this, Boss.” His brother grinned. “Though, I mean, I’m not  _against_  it or anything. So, if you really wanna try—”

“How could you have more faith in  _them_  over  _me_?!”

His brother blinked up at him, teeny, tiny fingers flexing in his gloves as his wide, wide eyes looked on in confusion. “Uhh, what are you—?”

“But you know what?” He seethed, picking Sans up by his jacket and dangling him up in the air at eye level with him, his little legs hanging uselessly. “If you’re going to be like this, then I don’t see why I  _should_  care.”

And Papyrus—

“Boss, wha— ** _AAH?!!_** ”

—dropped him.

Only a few feet, before catching him again.

There. Maybe  _that’d_  teach him a lesson.

He cupped Sans in his hands and brought him back up. “Nyeh heh, was that  _fun_  enough for…”

He trailed off, shocked into silence because…

Sans was crying.

Actually, legitimately,  _crying_. Big, fat tears rolling down his face and hiccupping sobs that wracked his small frame. He was shaking, eyes wide and wet and fearful. Papyrus felt his soul twist painfully.

“Y-you…” Sans croaked, voice watery and cheeks flushed dark, “You a-actually… I-I can’t believe y-you actually d-dropped me…!”

_Oh shit._

He could feel his tiny brother trembling in his hands; could see the way his knobby little knees hit each other as he shook. Guilt washed over him, heavy and reproachful. “Ah… Sans, I…”

“F-fuck you, Boss.” Sans wiped furiously at his eyes, but the tears just kept rolling down his face. “Ugh, s-so fucking embarrassing…”

Papyrus awkwardly rubbed a finger at his back in what he hoped was a soothing motion. Sans grumbled but didn’t push him off, too busy trying to keep standing with how wobbly his legs seemed to be. He took the opportunity to brush his thumb over the top of his brother’s head, shushing him as he did so.

“My apologies, Sans.” He tried his best to be sincere, a little chagrined that he’d let his temper get the best of him like this. He'd gone too far. “I… don’t know what I was thinking.”

Sans sniffled but didn’t respond.

After a moment’s hesitation, Papyrus leaned down and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. If anything, his brother flushed harder at that, hands immediately going up protectively. He glared at Papyrus through his tears, frowning in a way that was remarkably endearing on a body that small.

Papyrus… was starting to see where his counterpart was coming from with that ‘cute’ comment.

“W-what the fuck was that for, asshole?”

Papyrus picked Sans up by his coat once more, this time carefully placing him up on his shoulder, nested in his scarf. “Let me make it up to you, brother.”

“Yeah?” Sans seemed dubious. “How?”

Papyrus turned his head and gave his brother another soft kiss, this time letting the tip of his tongue swipe across Sans’ cheek. Even just that was enough to leave the side of his brother’s face wet. Sans stared up at him, tiny fingers gripping tight into his scarf and expression completely flustered.

 _Adorable_.

“Let me take you up on your earlier offer.” He smirked.

Sans looked away, face burning. Head still bowed, he slowly nodded in response. He was trembling again, though Papyrus could instantly tell that it was now for a much different reason.

And, yeah.

He could definitely see it now.

That  _was_  pretty cute.


	8. Honey&Mustard (Friendship)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairings: Honey&Mustard (the & there indicates friendship just fyi cuz that’s def what’s happening here B’D), Fellcest/Swapcest (implied)  
> Words: 1836  
> Summary: Sans and Papyrus have been forced into an relationship that neither of them want but also cannot refuse. They discover that they have more in common than they think. (Based on [this](http://0netype.tumblr.com/post/151397307902/eli-sin-g-sorry-yall-it-aint-honeymustard).)

Sans stared at his fiancé from across the crisp white cloth covering their table. They were in a fancy little restaurant—very expensive and very exclusive; any ordinary monster would have to wait months to get a reservation—for their date. Privately he thought it was a total waste to come considering the fact that neither of them actually wanted to be here. He could see the way Papyrus’ left leg shook as he tapped his foot, probably anxious for another cigarette. He gripped at the cloth napkin he’d dangled over his lap tightly, phalanges scrunching it up.

It was awkward.

When their fathers had set them up together a month ago, they’d been pissed but had gone along with it. What could they have done otherwise, after all? Sans may not know much about Papyrus’s home life, but he knew that  _his_  father at least would never allow that sort of disobedience from Sans. He had no choice but to agree to the engagement.

And it would’ve been fine, maybe. Papyrus was nice enough and they both had admittedly a lot in common. If they had met under different circumstances, maybe they would’ve liked each other anyway. But, as it stood, Sans couldn’t help but feel a little resentment at being forced into this relationship against his will. He knew it wasn’t actually Papyrus’s fault but, seeing as he couldn’t exactly take this out on his father, his snarky fiancé was the next best thing.

If he was being completely honest, he also got the feeling that Papyrus preferred it when they didn’t pretend to be enamoured with each other. At least in private they could be themselves. In public they had no choice but to hold onto each other familiarly and to smile and kiss for the cameras.

“So. How long do we have to pretend to enjoy each other’s company today?” Papyrus drawled, not looking Sans’ way.

He leaned back in his chair with a sigh. “Dunno. Maybe like an hour or something? How fast can you eat?”

His fiancé turned his gaze back over to Sans, sockets in their usual impassive droop. “What if we just got our shit packed up immediately and left?”

“Don’t be a fucking idiot,” Sans snorted before leaning forward and discreetly lowering his voice, “There’s at least four reporters pretending not to be staring at us already. Can you imagine the headlines if we just left?”

“Hmm… how’s ‘Relationship in Shambles: Will the stocks survive the fall?’ sound?”

Sans rolled his eyelights at him.

“No, no, wait, wait, give me a sec. I can do better. What about, ‘Brunch Time Breakup! A Hard Meal to Digest’.”

“Real funny jackass. Hope you can hang on to that humour when my dad drives a foot up your ass in the aftermath.”

Papyrus gave him a wry smile. “He’ll have to get in line. My old man’s not gonna be too happy with that turn of events either.”

Sans sighed heavily once more. “Let’s just fuckin’ eat then. No point in making this harder than it has—”

He stopped.

Stared.

His fiancé stared right back at him. “What?

“Are you…” Sans looked on in shock. “Are you wearing an  _actual_  tie?”

“Yeah? So what?” He didn’t miss the defensive way Papyrus pulled back at the question.

“What happened to your clip-on?”

“I, uh…” Sans could see the start of a flush rush to his cheekbones. “I got rid of it.”

Sans felt his curiosity pique. This was getting interesting. Papyrus was shifting uncomfortably in his seat, clearly flustered. Sans had only mentioned the tie in sudden surprise really, but it seemed like there might actually be a story here.

He grinned, sharp and teasing. “Did you finally teach yourself how to tie one properly? Because somehow I can’t imagine you went up to your dad and asked him to do it for you.”

“What does it matter who taught me?!” Huh. Someone  _else_  taught him? Sans hadn’t said anything about that, he’d simply assumed Papyrus figured it out on his own. He watched with muted amusement as Papyrus only blushed further. “And besides, fuck off with your superiority bullshit. You don’t see  _me_  calling attention to the way  _you’re_  dressed!”

He blinked. “Wha— _me_? What’s wrong with what  _I’m_  wearing??”

“Nothing!”

“So—”

“And that’s  _exactly_  the problem! You think I haven’t noticed?!”

The sudden accusatory lilt to his words made Sans’ soul leap up in his ribcage, the guilty secret he was keeping making his anxiety surge up in a storm.

He couldn’t possibly mean—

No. No, if he’d found out about  _that_  then he’d have told his father by now right?

Papyrus was clearly on the verge of shouting, standing halfway out of his seat. Sans darted a quick glance around them and saw several patrons shift around, gazes watchful. Reporters most likely. He could only guess at the ridiculous sum their companies must have dished out just so that they could have an opportunity to be in here with them. They were waiting for the slightest sign of trouble. If things got out of hand, it’d make the papers faster than they’d be able to leave the restaurant itself.

He fixed Papyrus with a bright look, hissed even as he hid it all behind a forced smile. “ _Sit the fuck down and lower your voice._ ”

Thankfully, his fiancé wasn’t a  _total_  idiot.

Papyrus started at his tone and swept his gaze around the room. Sans could see it in his eyes the instant he realised the sort of situation they were in. He dropped into a slouch, abashed, before uneasily retaking his seat. After a moment’s pause, he whispered an apology under his breath at Sans, still looking mildly embarrassed.

Once the situation seemed to be in hand, Sans prompted him to explain, curiosity burning fast even as his instincts told him they were headed into dangerous territory. “… noticed what?”

Papyrus looked cautiously around before he leaned in towards Sans. “You’re wearing new clothes.”

Sans didn’t say anything in response, soul beating rapid-fire in his chest.

Oblivious to Sans’ turmoil, Papyrus continued. “For the entire month that we’ve known each other, I think you’ve recycled the same outfit at least twelve times. So. With you wearing something so obviously brand new, well-pressed and clean, it’s pretty clear what’s going on.”

 _Shit_.

He  _did_  know.

How had he found out??

Fucking hell, Sans hadn’t even  _done_  anything with the event planner yet. No matter how much he really, really wanted to. He even tried to avoid thinking about the monster too much, resigned to spending the few hours a week he was allotted by his side without arousing any suspicion. He kept his gaze down and his hands to himself. He didn’t linger where he shouldn’t.

He understood the situation he was in too well for that sort of reckless behaviour, even if just the sound of the other skeleton’s voice left him shaking all over.

After all that restraint, surely he at least had the right to allow himself to dress up a little and garner the planner’s approval.

Nevertheless, Sans scrambled to explain himself. “It’s not—”

“You’re trying to impress me.” Papyrus cut him off, looking about as pleased with this prospect as Sans felt hearing it.

He stilled, staring at his fiancé with his expression as blank as he could keep it. “Uhh…”

Papyrus sighed, shutting his sockets briefly before giving Sans a pitying look. “Listen. I get it. I do. It’d be great if we could fall in love. That way we could get married and  _everybody_ would win. We’d be happy and our fathers would have no reason to complain… but…”

His fiancé gave another quick look around, trailing off. He frown intensified the longer he stayed quiet.

In a split second, the expression on his face shifted and he seemed to come to a decision. With a look of firm resolve, he got up out of his seat and walked over to Sans.

“W—?” Before he could so much as ask what Papyrus was up to, the tall skeleton tugged on Sans’ arm and pulled him up out of his seat with a yelp.

Even as Sans protested, Papyrus dragged him along, moving quickly away from their table and in the direction of the restroom instead. He pushed Sans in through the door first before coming in after him and barricading it with a trash can behind him. That done, Papyrus went and checked through every stall presumably to make sure they were alone while Sans simply stared.

“The  _fuck_  are you doing?”

Their privacy confirmed, Papyrus whirled around and looked at him.

The expression on his face was one Sans had never seen on him before.

It looked almost…

… apologetic?

Papyrus seemed to steel himself, gripping Sans by the shoulders and meeting his gaze directly. When he finally spoke, it was in a rush like he couldn’t bear to keep the words back any longer.

“I’m in love with someone else.”

Sans felt his sockets widen. “You’re…”

“In love. With someone else,” Papyrus repeated, and Sans would laugh at the uncharacteristic repentance on his face if his mind wasn’t so busy trying to convince himself he heard it right, “And I’m pretty sure I want to spend the rest of my life with him.”

A heavy outpouring of relief flooded into Sans, enough to buckle his knees and make him stumble. Papyrus steadied him, murmuring a curse under his breath as he caught Sans around the waist. He gripped tight on the arms supporting him, trying to right himself even as his mind started to whirl with the possibilities this turn of events now afforded.

“Fuck, you’re shaking.” He heard Papyrus’s voice as if it was at a distance, still thinking quick about where this reveal left them. “Don’t… don’t be upset, dude. I honestly didn’t even think you liked me that much.”

“Shut up,” Sans said as he continued to plan things out, slowly getting back to his feet.

“You’re not gonna cry are you?”

 _That_  got his attention.

Sans turned his head to snap at him before catching sight of Papyrus’s face. It was free of any traces of mockery. Papyrus was being entirely sincere in his concern, truthful about his feelings and remorseful at what this would mean for the two of them. Sans felt a twist of something disturbingly like camaraderie in his soul.

“Me too,” He blurted, surprising himself with a sudden burst of honesty.

“What?”

Sans didn’t repeat himself.

He didn’t need to, if the slowly dawning comprehension on Papyrus’s face was anything to go by. “… you too? For real?”

“Yeah,” Sans confirmed with a nod, easily side-stepping out of Papyrus’s grasp. Then, with more positivity than he’d felt in ages, he gripped tight onto his fiancé’s arm, tugging him down to eye-level. Face-to-face, Sans gave him his widest, most genuine grin. “And I think I have an idea.”


	9. Kedgeup

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Based on [this cuteness right here](https://www.pillowfort.io/posts/202379).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title: Secrets  
> Rating: G  
> Relationship: Sans/UF!Papyrus [Kedgeup]  
> Wordcount: 921

Sans left the house with a content sigh, shutting the door behind him. Ever since his alternate and his brother started dropping by for visits, his weekends had gotten fairly busy. Not that he was complaining—Papyrus and Red got along famously. It seemed that his twin had a soft spot that he rarely got to express with his own brother and so doted on his instead.

And as for Edge…

He looked down at the bottom of the steps, eyeing the back of the skeleton sitting there. “You alright, pal?”

Edge turned around to face him, a dopey, drunken smile on his face. “Yes, thank you.”

According to Red, his brother didn’t drink much. It was less a moral objection than a logical one. In their world, it was necessary to stay ever vigilante and, as a Royal Guard, Edge couldn’t afford to be off his game. So, it was a rare chance to see the tall, formidable skeleton like this, loose-limbed and giddy.

“Fresh air doin’ ya some good?”

Edge hummed in affirmative, turning back around and staring out at the scenery around them. Sans grinned. He’d understood from the start that Edge was essentially Papyrus in a universal sense, but the similarity was striking when he was untensed like this. He felt his soul thrum just a little harder at the thought and he rubbed self-consciously at his chest before brushing it aside.

“Got room for one more?”

His brother’s twin didn’t look back at him again but shifted a little to the side, making space for him on the steps. Sans stepped down wordlessly, taking the place offered to him.

For a moment, they just sat together, staring out into the distance.

“I’m glad.”

Sans watched Edge from the corner of his sockets. “Hmm…?”

“I’m just… I’m glad.” Edge shrugged, not looking at him. “That we came here. That things are different than what they’re like back home. That soft me doesn’t have to worry about being attacked when he least expects it…”

Edge seemed melancholy suddenly. His shoulders slumped and his posture drawn in. Sans had to resist the urge to reach out and touch him, console him maybe for all the things he’d had to go through. They’re not close enough for that sort of thing though.

Not yet.

With a sigh, Edge looked back at him, eyelights deceptively clear. “That my brother doesn’t have to put up a front and act like he doesn’t care.”

A pause, and Sans stared back at his brother’s twin with a heavy soul. “… you know he loves you, right?”

“Mm,” Edge said, and something in the sound is forlorn, “I know.”

The silence lasts for another moment, heavy and restrictive.

“I…” Edge’s voice broke; cracked in a way that made Sans’ soul ache. “I love him too.”

And, oh.

Oh.

Sans swallowed reflexively, emptiness passing in the motion. He turned away from Edge then, didn’t want him to see his face as comprehension dawned. He fidgeted in place, an uncomfortable knowledge settling in against him.

He knew what that was like.

He wouldn’t wish it on anyone.

Sans clenched and unclenched his fists, staring down at his feet. He should do something here. Say something. Edge had shared something heartfelt with him in a moment of vulnerability, surely the least he could do was offer his support?

Or his condolences.

But he couldn’t. The words had dried up inside him. The hurt was a little too close to home for him to offer empty platitudes.

So, he sat and he eyed his slipper-clad feet and he didn’t say a word.

“Can I—?” Edge started before abruptly cutting himself off. “Never mind.”

Sans looked up at that and saw a light flush colouring Edge’s cheekbones.

He pushed himself to speak up. “Sorry, uh… what?”

Edge turned back to him, bright red eyelights considering. There was a flash of something resolute in him before, suddenly, Sans was swept up into his arms, wrapped tight in an embrace. He blinked, unsure of where to put his hands when Edge was holding him so close and so tight. He settled for drawing them back into his hoodie sleeves, the sudden warmth flushing through him overwhelming him at the thought of doing anything more tactile than that.

In reality, the hug must’ve lasted a handful of seconds. But, to Sans, it felt transcendent.

After a moment, he leaned into it, taking in the softness of the scarf around Edge’s neck and the familiar-unfamiliar scent of his bones. Edge’s hold around him tightened in response and Sans’ hands twitched where they were bundled up in his sleeves, an almost unconscious desire to grip onto him briefly overwhelming him. Sans couldn’t remember the last time he felt so grounded. So safe.

When Edge finally pulled back from him, it was jarring.

“My apologies,” he said, a rough quality to his voice.

“No, no, it’s…” Sans took a second; gathered his thoughts. “Thanks, I… I needed that.”

Edge watched him, gaze soft. “As did I.”

They looked at each other, understanding passing through the simple gesture. Sans broke eye contact first, instead shifting a little closer towards Edge and leaning into his side. He could feel the tall skeleton stiffen at the motion but, as the seconds passed, he relaxed back into it as well. They stayed like that, unspeaking, simply enjoying the companionship.

When Papyrus and Red eventually came looking for them some time later, they hadn’t moved an inch from their spots.


	10. HoneyMustard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TEALESTMOON SAID:  
> *whispers* what if you did like. honeymustard. where they go to the pet shelter and adopt a cat. what if you did that

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: HoneyMustard  
> Words: ~565

The surface was weird enough when it had just been them, but now that there was a whole ‘nother Underground up here alongside them, Sans was finding it even weirder.

The humans had adjusted to their initial emergence surprisingly quickly—or at least the ones nearest to the settlement by Mt. Ebott had—but there were still moments where Sans caught their split seconds of apprehension and fear whenever they saw something they weren’t quite used to. Sure they’d been all sweet and welcoming when the humans had still outnumbered the small amount of monsters willing to venture past New New Home into the unknown, but now, with all the curious, reckless monsters from Stretch’s universe spilling into these tiny human towns… well, Sans couldn’t help but feel tense and unsure every time someone looked at them too long.

“Hey, check this one out.” He was distracted from his spiraling, doomed, thoughts by Stretch tugging on his jacket sleeve. “Didn’t you say your bro had a cat like this Underground?”

Sans looked critically at the tiny, soft, black kitten that his brother’s twin was pointing at, trying his best not to scowl. The cat was nothing like Doom had been. Not enough scars for one, and definitely not enough hissing and biting whenever Sans came too close. “Uh. Kinda, I guess.”

He couldn’t focus on the cat, too busy staring down the cashier that kept glancing over towards them every couple of seconds. Were they planning something? Were they going to attack? Sans would check them if he could get away with it but humans had pretty firmly establish that they weren’t okay with that and Sans didn’t want to be the first to start some sort of diplomatic incident.

Stretch beamed at him. “Why don’t we get this one then? I’m sure Edge would be thrilled to have something to remind him of home.”

Would he?

Boss was still banking on Doomfanger wandering up by himself, sauntering into their new house like he owned the place. Being entirely honest, Sans was pretty much doing the same. The dog had followed them up, so why wouldn’t the cat?

But… if another cat was there, would it ruin the chances of that happening? Would his brother be disappointed if so? He’d been mourning the lack of feline affection in his life—that’s why Stretch had insisted they come here in the first place—but Sans wasn’t sure if bringing him a replacement cat would just upset him.

“I think he likes me,” Stretch laughed as he picked the kitten up and it immediately began snuggling up in his arms, “Dude, this one’s a keeper.”

Sans couldn’t help but feel that the human cashier kept eyeing them nervously from the front, eager for them to leave. He turned to say as much to Stretch but found that his words trailed off as he took in the sight of the tiny thing purring in Stretch’s arms, pawing at the drawstrings of his hoodie. There was nothing but honest curiosity in its playfulness, open and trusting.

He didn’t know how long he watched as Stretch played with the small animal, but as Stretch held out the kitten towards him, Sans took it into his arms and let it curl up against him.

“Okay,” he said, brushing a phalanx softly against its fur, “Let’s take ‘im home.”


	11. Fellcest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SESURESCUE SAID:  
> Typeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee Can I bother you for fluffy fellcest with the trope 'didn't know they were dating' for a request? I'll literally love you forever (which is hard since I already platonically love you forever <3 ahahaha)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Fellcest  
> Words: ~485

Usually when Papyrus told him to keep his day free, it meant that they were about to have some sort of ‘serious discussion’. It wasn’t exactly a secret that neither of them were the greatest with words—more often than not, their ‘discussions’ led to anger and upset and a whole day-long event of sulking and avoiding each other till they found ways to apologise without actually saying the words out loud. So when Sans gets the ‘keep your evening free’ text from his brother, he’s tense and nervous from then till he gets home from patrol.

That gets amped up about a thousand times more when he enters and sees that all the lights in the house are off except for a dim glow coming out from the kitchen.

“Uh… Boss?” He calls, walking carefully through the living room with his magic at the ready in case some idiot has actually tried to break into their home.

“In here,” Papyrus answers from the kitchen, and Sans fractionally relaxes.

It doesn’t last long though, since as soon as he enters the room, he feels like he’s been pushed straight into some sort of parallel universe.

For one, there’s a table. Sans doesn’t know where his brother got it, but there’s an honest-to-god table fit for two in the middle of their kitchen. It’s even got a lacy little tablecloth on it. And then there’s the only light source in the room—a lit candelabra at the center of the table, casting warm, flickering orange shapes over the meticulously set-up dinner arranged around it. To top it all off, there are  _flowers_. Actual, proper,  _real-not-plastic_ ** _flowers_**.

“Wh… I uh, am I… missing something?”

Papyrus rolls his eyelights and scoffs. “I knew you’d forget.”

He walks around the table and approaches him, and it’s only now that Sans notices the way that his brother is dressed. A clean, pressed, black dress-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and dark, grey, slacks with a shiny, silver, skull-shaped buckle. Sans feels completely under-dressed—his shoes wet and muddy from the slush and his unwashed jacket probably stinking up the place. By the time Papyrus is face-to-face with him, Sans has picked out every possible thing wrong with the way he’s dressed and is feeling increasingly anxious over whatever major event that warrants fancy-ing up that he’s clearly forgotten about.

Papyrus looms over him, tall and menacing. When he leans in, Sans almost teleports away.

But then Papyrus kisses the top of his skull and Sans freezes so solidly in place that he can hardly breathe, much less relocate his body through time and space.

_What the hell is going on?_

“Happy Anniversary, Sans.”

_H… Happy…?_

“…  ** _what?_** ”


	12. Fellcest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Fellcest  
> Words: ~415

His brother has been listless all day, walking around with a blank, unseeing, gaze deep in his sleepless, shadowed sockets. He has his usual smile on his face, sure, and he'd started the day off with his typical inane puns (insisting over and over that they weren’t over-done) but there had been no true mirth in his jokes and no real emotion in his voice. There is no doubt that Sans is having a Bad Day.

Thankfully, by now Papyrus is familiar enough with these days that he’s established a proper plan of action.

  1. Step one, allow Sans to continue going on pretending that everything is okay.
  2. Step two, conveniently check-in on him while he’s at his post. Bringing snacks is optional, but advised.  _(Sans always lit up whenever he brought something particularly unhealthy, the fiend.)_
  3. Step three,  _very_ casually and  _not-at-all_  suspiciously suggest cutting the work day short and heading back home together. Insist that it’s not for any reason in particular and mostly because you’ve secured the area far faster and far more thoroughly that Sans could’ve done it in the first place because you are just that Terrific.
  4. (Step three-point-five, try not to preen too much at how easily Sans agrees and relaxes, trusting you completely.)
  5. Step four, take Sans back home.



Which leads him back to the situation at hand—Sans is fast asleep, head resting in his lap and feet dangling off the end of the couch. Reprehensible behaviour, really. They’d been in the middle of an exceptional new movie! …he assumed. Papyrus couldn’t remember the details of it exactly, but only because he’d been too busy watching Sans sigh and untense, slumped against him as he drowsily watched. The small breathy laughter and hums of enjoyment had made his soul squeeze with fondness.

So maybe he’ll need to watch the movie again at some point to give it a proper review, but that’s okay. It's important for a good caretaker to consider their patient first, after all. For now, he keeps one arm curled protectively over Sans’ side where he’s snuggling into Papyrus’s chest, and the other brushing soothingly over the top of his skull.

And Papyrus never really sleeps— _wouldn’t_  when at least one of them needs to be alert in case someone tries to catch them unaware—but as he watches Sans doze, he feels that same sort of peace and content blanket him anyways.


	13. HoneyMustard

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ANONYMOUS SAID:  
> Swap and Red, aftercare! Not necessarily after sex, but maybe a panic attack or rough social anxiety? -SerifSinclair

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: HoneyMustard  
> Words: ~300

When he and Stretch had initially gotten together, Sans hadn’t been sure he’d ever get used to seeing his own issues mirrored on a face that looked so much like his brother’s. Boss was tough. He was brave, and just, and a pillar of both physical strength and mental fortitude. Sans meant every word he said when he praised his brother for his fearsome conquering of all things from cooking to socialisation.

So the first time Stretch had broken down in front of him, panic and anxiety driving him to tears, Sans had frozen in place, completely unsure of how to handle it.

Now though, he has it down to a science.

“How you feeling, bud?” He whispers as he enters Stretch’s room. The other skeleton is barely visible underneath the pile of blankets he’s buried himself underneath and Sans really has to look before he can see a shift of fabric signaling a nod. Permission granted, he comes closer, climbing up onto the bed. “Here.”

Stretch pokes his head out from the cocoon, face tear-streaked and weary. Still, it’s a far better sight than it had been a few minutes ago when he’d been gasping for breath he didn’t need, panicked and so sure that all the things he feared were on their way to fruition. Now, Stretch is steady enough to eye over the small bundle in Red’s hands and read it for what it is—his hoodie. Freshly washed and dried.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, unraveling himself enough to take the hoodie and put it on, covering his bare bones.

“Don’t mention it,” Sans says, reaching to put an arm around him and pulling him close to press a kiss to his forehead. Stretch hums something, pleased and soft, turning to press his face into Sans’ shoulder. They sit together, comfortable in the silence.


	14. Fellcest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> SESURESCUE SAID:  
> Oh no type, I sent you in a request that I thought I wanted, but then I thought of something better maybe: Fellcest(or honeymustard) with Fake Dating trope for a financial scam. Sorry! ;;;;;;

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Fellcest  
> Words: ~620

It seemed like even after all this time spent around Frisk, Papyrus still hadn’t quite lost the competitive part of him that wanted to challenge humans and test their limits. While at one point that had meant fighting it out, now, up on the surface where they were outnumbered ten-to-one in just this town alone, it meant coming up with new and inventive ways to knock them down a peg or two.

In this particular case, it meant showing up their neighbours in a cooking contest.

“Boss, we barely even know them.”

“I’ve seen the way they eye us, Sans,” Papyrus insisted, continuing to walk towards the sign-up booth. “They think they’re superior. Well, won’t they be surprised when I beat them at their own game. My culinary skills will have them weeping on their hands and knees before us.”

Sans sighed but didn’t interrupt. He’d noticed too of course, the looks their neighbours shot them every time Tori brought Frisk over to spend a weekend. He’d noticed and kept it in the back of his head. Remembered it every time his brother finally retired for the night and he snuck out to do a quick patrol of the area.

“Hello, humans!” Papyrus greeted loudly as they approached the group manning the sign-up station/ “I would like to put myself down as a contestant. I am ready to take on your most worthy chefs and beat them with my considerable talent.”

The humans stared at him, open-mouthed. It was like they’d never seen a talking skeleton before.

Sans stepped in. “If you’ve got a form to fill out or something…?”

“O-oh, yes, of course.” One of them straightened up, clearing her throat and pushing a clipboard Sans’ way. “Here you go.”

“Sweet, thanks.” Sans took it from her, leaning over the table as he picked up the pen and started to fill it out on Papyrus’s behalf, seeing as how he was busy talking to the humans. It was fairly straight forward stuff anyways; name, address, phone number, emergency contacts, experience with the culinary arts, etc. Sans got so focused on filling it out that he almost didn’t hear what the human who’d given him the clipboard said to his brother in the meantime.

 _Almost_.

“Once your boyfriend is done filling that sheet out, we can walk you guys through what the competition will be like.”

Sans choked. His pen slipped across the form, a black streak through the lines. 

Papyrus was smiling at her as if she hadn’t just said something completely absurd and ridiculous. “Excellent, I look forward to whatever you’ve put together for this battle of skill.”

“Uh,” he interrupted, and the group of humans and Papyrus both stared at him, “What was that?”

The human girl blinked at him. “Oh, sorry, I was just telling your boyfriend that–”

Sans face felt like it was on fire. “My  _what?_ ”

The girl looked confused, but before she could say a thing, Papyrus took a step closer to Sans, placing a firm hand on his shoulder and squeezing it. “I’m sorry, my partner here is just a little confused because originally we hadn’t known it was a Couple’s Cooking Tournament.”

Sans stared up at his brother, heat suffusing through his body. “A… couple’s…?”

And then, Papyrus leaned in close and pecked him solidly right on his mouth, in front of everyone standing there. A chaste thing that should’ve been no issue but that made Sans feel numb and giddy all at once.

“Yes.” There was something questioning in Papyrus’s gaze, worry mixed with something unreadable. “I hope that’s alright…?”

Face burning and soul pounding in his chest, Sans swallowed down his nerves. “Y-yeah. Fine by me.”


	15. FluffyHoodies (UF!Sans/SFR!Papyrus)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ANONYMOUS SAID:  
> what if you wrote floofyhoodies where they make out and cuddle but don't fucc

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: FluffyHoodies [UF!Sans/SFR!Papyrus]  
> Words: ~300

Slim’s tongue in his mouth was wet and… almost slobbery. Sans would’ve laughed about it, but the kid was definitely a little too desperate to handle teasing over kissing technique well. He’d been shy and nervous when he’d approached him and Sans didn’t want to scare him off with anything that might come across as judgement. Besides, it wasn’t like it was awful or anything. Honestly, it was lowkey pretty fuckin’ hot—especially with the way Slim clung to his jacket as he pulled back gasping, his sockets scrunched tight and expression still wanting.

He immediately moved in again, but this time Sans held him back for a moment, taking the lead. He shifted so that he was straddling Slim on the bed, pelvis warm and full of slow forming magic. He pushed his body into the tall, shaky skeleton, pressure firm enough that Slim yielded and fell backwards into the mess of pillows and blankets beneath them.

“Like this,” Sans whispered, licking into Slim’s open, panting mouth. He deftly entangled their tongues together, pulling Slim’s softly into his mouth and sucking on it. The other skeleton let a broken moan peal out, his grip tightening where he was still gripping desperately into Sans’ jacket. Sans smiled into the kiss, moving his hand and rubbing soothingly up and down Slim’s spine.

The soft, scarred monster beneath him shivered at his touch.

Sans pulled back from the kiss, looking him straight in the eye. Slim didn’t seem to want to meet his gaze head on, but held steady anyways. Sans placed his hands on either side of Slim’s skull, holding it gently in both his palms. He rubbed his thumbs over the rough panes of Slim’s face before giving him another soft, slow kiss.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Sans assured, holding him tight.


	16. Fellcest

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **Notes for the Chapter:**

> Pairing: Fellcest  
> Words: ~425

It wasn’t often that Papyrus would request something where Sans got rough with him—his brother had a  _thing_ for being in control; a need for being aware and alert—but on certain days, when the stress of being in charge got to be too much, Papyrus would pull him aside. They would discuss the broad idea of what Papyrus wanted and leave the details a surprise. They’d seal the deal with a kiss and Sans would take him in whatever way his brother would allow.

But it was afterwards that Sans would make sure to give Papyrus what he really needed.

Papyrus wasn’t a fan of distance following an intense scene, so Sans made sure to keep essentials handy nearby, set up prior to doing anything intimate. A container of warm water and plenty of washcloths; a variety of snacks and drinks; a set of fresh clean clothes; a book. So as Papyrus lay back, coming down from the end of his latest test of endurance, Sans got to work.

His brother didn’t like feeling sticky and dirty so Sans wiped him down with the washcloths and the warm water, whispering praises and endearments like he only ever did in these situations, the only time they were ever vulnerable enough to allow this to pass. Papyrus breathed softly through it, sockets still closed and body too exhausted to move. Once clean, Sans redressed his brother, helping him into a pair of soft, worn-in pajamas and giving him space to do it himself when he tried to do up the buttons on his shirt.

After that, he gave Papyrus a glass of water, placing other drinks—boxed and fruity like his brother enjoyed but dared never admit—nearby in case Papyrus was in the mood for something else. But his brother didn’t glance their way, instead draining the glass quickly. Sans eased it out of his hands and pressed a granola bar into it, pressing a kiss to his cheekbone as he reminded him to take it easy as he ate it. Papyrus nodded at him, humming something he wasn’t quite steady enough to voice.

As he continued to slowly chew at the bar in his hand, Sans retrieved the book from under the bed and sat with his back up against the headboard. Almost automatically, Papyrus curled up against him, resting his head on Sans’ shoulder. Sans pulled the covers up over them, soul warm and content.

Papyrus looked down at the book as Sans cracked it open. “Do the voices too.”

Sans grinned at him and started to read.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnd, that concludes all the backing up from Tumblr~ I'll probs continue to use this to post new drabbles and such in--thanks for reading this far! :3


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